Hunt
by Team7Star
Summary: I guess you could call me a spy. Or a secret agent. It doesn't really matter. You wouldn't know me anyways. I work alone. And it's a right pain and a problem to keep people from knowing who you are and what you do for a living. Rest of summary inside. Rated T for language. Written by Son A.
1. The First

**Wow, it's been a while. Serious writer's block for a month or two. BLEH. Well, here's another action/adventure multi-chapter-er YAY! And this time, chapters WILL be longer. I know how much you all LURVE your long chapters.  
**

**Disclaimer- I don't know many times I have to say this, but I don't own Dragon Ball Z.  
**

_Hunt_

_By Son A_

I guess you could call me a spy. Or a secret agent. It doesn't really matter. You wouldn't know me anyways. I work alone. And it's a right pain and a problem to keep people from knowing who you are and what you do for a living. Now, I'm faced with a bigger problem. A team of ex-prisoners has found the existence of the Dragon Balls, seven magic balls that if all gathered together, can grant you any wish you want. And they have one.

CHAPTER 1: THE FIRST

I was in a warehouse. 12:00 midnight exactly. Hundreds of wooden crates filled with who knows what stacked up to heights of about 20 feet, only stopping to form a path through the high ceilinged building.

I knew the Dragon Ball was somewhere in the center of this building. I guess the criminals had thought no one but themselves were smart enough to get to the middle of the labyrinth.

I crept along the maze of crates, keeping my back on the sides at all times. I was hidden in the shadows. There was no light except for a long streak of lamp light running down the middle of the path. I couldn't risk being seen, and I knew better than to turn on my flashlight.

My hand hovered over the small hand knife strapped to my waist. Any sign of movement or danger, and whatever was causing the trouble would have its throat slit. I wasn't afraid of violence. I paused, thinking I had heard something. I grasped the handle of the knife. I looked back and forth. Maybe my senses were playing tricks on me.

Then I heard it. A tapping on the other side of the wooden box I was up against. Quietly, I pulled the knife out of its casing and held it up near my shoulder. Biting my lip, I turned to the other side of the box, the side where I had heard the tapping. There was... no one there. Nothing there. Then I realized. It was a trap.

I was completely off track from where I was supposed to be going, and the trapper was probably waiting on that side to kill me. I decided to go in the other direction and try to find another way to get to my checkpoint. Taking careful, slow steps, I reached the corner of the crate, and leaped across the gap to another pathway. I lowered the knife a little.

Suddenly, a gloved hand clamped over my mouth. The other hand grabbed my wrist, the wrist that had the knife in its hand. The glove was fingerless, black knit, and the attacker's hands were icy cold. I didn't struggle. I had a plan.

"I knew you'd go in the opposite direction." the attacker hissed, right in my ear in a raspy deep voice. "I was ready to jump out even if you went back to your path. I guess you could say I'm too smart for my own good." he said; I could literally feel his victorious smirk.

The smirk dropped. The attacker loosened his grip. _My_ grip on the knife tightened. "Who are you?" he asked. He took his hand off my mouth, but kept his grip on my wrist.

My brain searched for the first name I could find that wasn't my own. "Charlie," I said breathlessly. "Charlie Baker."

"Well _Charlie_," the attacker sneered. "don't know if anyone told you, but I'm one of the best human lie detectors around. You might as well tell me your real name. You're going to be killed either way."

I swallowed. "I'm... Goku. Son Goku. Who the hell are you?"

"Now, now, don't be rude. I'll ask the questions. What are you doing here?"

I might as well be honest with this guy. "Finding the Dragon Ball."

"To do what with it?"

"Get it with the others."

"And?"

"Keep them safe."

There was a pause. "If I let go, do you promise to put the knife away?"

"No."

The grip on my wrist tightened. "I know a nice little pressure point right here that could make you drop that knife and fall unconscious."

I lowered the knife to my side, and the stranger let me. He let go, and I turned around, getting a good look at the guy, or the best I could in the darkness.

He was shorter than I was, with spiky black hair that stood straight up like a fire. His eyes were dark and narrowed, with even darker circles around them, which made him look like he hadn't slept in days. He had sharp facial features and tan skin, he looked like quite the tough guy.

He was clad completely in black, and was geared up with so many supplies and weapons, I was surprised how quickly he could move. His jacket sleeves were rolled up, and I saw he was well muscled, with many battle scars marring his arms.

There was a moment of silence, just us staring at each other. My hand stayed at the knife. I bit my lip again, an annoying habit I have yet to break. With quick sudden movement. I pulled out the knife, flipped it upwards, and held the tip at the stranger's neck, grabbing him by the shirt.

I didn't see even a trace of fear in those dark eyes, just a glimmer of amusement and a small smile.

I narrowed my eyes. "What side are you on?" I asked sharply, pushing him up against a crate.

The stranger held up his hands. "Calm down, we're all friends here."

I didn't reply.

The smile dropped. He just looked at me, bored. "I'm on your side."

The knife dropped, I roughly pulled the guy to the center of the path and let go of his shirt suddenly causing him to stagger backwards to the other side of the path.

"Who are you?" I asked, wiping the blade of the knife on my shirt and slipping it back into the case.

The man's lip curled, and he straightened his jacket. "Vegeta."

I raised an eyebrow.

"What?" he asked. "That's it. Vegeta."

The eyebrow stayed up. "No last name?"

"Not as far as I'm aware of, no. Not as weird as a name like Son."

"My name is Goku." I said, my lip twitching.

"Then why is 'Son' before it?" Vegeta sneered. I didn't reply. "Look, I'm here to get the Dragon Ball and keep it away from the baddies too, we might as well work together."

I shook my head. "I work alone. I don't do well with others."

"Hey, it's the same with me, but you could make getting the Dragon Ball all the more easier. I mean, I am the brains _and_ the brawn of the both of us, but you could help too."

"You know what, forget you ever saw me. I'm going back on my path, which you rudely yanked me off of, and you go down yours. Have a nice day, goodbye."

Vegeta smirked again. "We're both going the same way, stupid."

I bit my lip in frustration. "Fine. It's not like we'll ever see each other again."

Vegeta stuck out his hand, his shoulder strap of many different sized knives clanking against each other as he did. "Can we shake on it?" he asked.

I reluctantly shook his hand, and we started down the correct path to the Dragon Ball.

It wasn't long before Vegeta suddenly stopped. He stuck out an arm, blocking my path, and his head perked up. He sniffed the air, and his eyes narrowed.

"No further." he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper.

He pushed me up against one of the crates, sidling up next to me in the shadows. His knives clinked together again. I held my breath.

"Damn knives," I heard him mutter, adjusting his jacket again.

It seemed like he knew what he was doing. I didn't like it. Not damn knives, damn Vegeta's more like it. I worked alone, I felt like I was being upstaged by some dude I had just met. It was a little like jealousy, I didn't like the fact that that he had outsmarted me earlier, and I didn't like that he wanted to tag along with me on the search for the Dragon Ball. Call me what you like, selfish, arrogant, I don't care. I didn't like this Vegeta.

Vegeta crept to the edge of the crate and peered around the corner, I could see he was holding his breath too. Since I was taller than him, I could peek above him.

There it was. The Dragon Ball. A small orange ball with a single red star on the front. The one star ball, I figured. It was sitting on a table, a small red blanket underneath, as if to keep it cushioned. It didn't look guarded at all, so very vulnerable all alone in the center of the crate labyrinth.

Vegeta looked back and forth, eyes ever alert, and smirked. "Idiots." he muttered.

"What?" I asked, whispering.

The smirk was still there as Vegeta turned to me. "Those idiots aren't guarding their valuables, anyone could steal them."

"How do _you _know no one's there?"

"I just do." he said, turning back again. "But to be safe..."

He pulled a particularly long knife out of his shoulder strap, spinning it around in his hands a couple of times.

"My lucky knife, he explained. "Never failed me."

Without waiting for a reply, Vegeta snuck out of the shadows and into the light. Still spinning the knife, he crept through the dim lighting and motioned for me to follow. I grabbed my knife and tiptoed after Vegeta.

Unfortunately, the ball was in the middle of the room, where the light was the brightest. But Vegeta didn't seem to care. He quickly ran without a sound (not even his knives made a sound) to the table holding our prize and grabbed the ball.

Suddenly, a large net flew down from the lamp providing us light, and fell on Vegeta. Or... tried to. With a few swift movements, Vegeta sliced up the net with his "lucky knife" without a second glance.

Looking at me with a victorious smirk, (he sure had the tendency to smirk) Vegeta tossed the ball to me. I caught it, and placed it in my pocket. It was smaller than I thought, and it fit perfectly.

Looking for anymore traps, Vegeta carefully creeped across the room to me, and flicked my head.

"That's how its done, amateur." he said.

"That was easy..." I trailed off, looking back and forth. "Too easy..."

"Then let's get the hell out of here, before you jinx us." Vegeta shrugged.

Then I heard someone yell. "GET 'EM!" yelled one of the prisoners, pointing to us.

Oh crap.

Vegeta's eyes flashed, and he turned and ran, completely ditching me. And I was the one with the Dragon Ball. I decided to run after him.

I was a fast runner, so I caught up with Vegeta fast. He looked behind him, running aimlessly through the crate paths.

Suddenly, Vegeta pulled something out of his pocket and pressed a button on the top.

"What is that?" I asked/yelled over the racket.

No answer.

"What are you gonna do?" I tried again.

"I'm gonna blow this place the hell up!"

"WHAT?"

Throwing the object, Vegeta grabbed my arm and pulled me faster, running for any path he could find.

"What if we hit a dead-end?"

"Then we're screwed!"

BOOM! The bomb blew up, and I heard the yells of some of the prisoners as they saw the fire engulf the path.

The fire started to catch on the crates, and chased after Vegeta and I. We basically ran for our lives, taking random turns and hoping we wouldn't hit a dead-end.

Finally, we saw the entrance, or our exit. With the fire licking at our heels, he ran out of the building and a good 20 yards away, then we both simultaneously dropped and rolled on the ground.

Breathing hard, a mixture of sweat and ashes running down both of our faces, Vegeta sighed.

"I think we killed 'em."

"I've still got the Dragon Ball." I said, pulling the orange sphere out of my pocket.

"Thank God you didn't drop it."

I nodded as a reply.

"It's gonna be a pain in the ass to get the others too, they've got others workin' for them at other places around the globe."

"Just great..." I trailed off, slumping into the grass.

**That's all you get for today. Stay tuned for the next chapter!  
**

**Son A**


	2. The Second

**If you read the author note in chapter 2 of my new story, 439 Mountain Region, you will get this: I TOLD YOU I WOULD NOT BE LAZY! I wrote the second half of this chapter in about half an hour, give or take. I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY GEEZ.**

**Oh, and have you heard of that awesome anime called Dragon Ball Z? Yeah, guess what! I don't own it! :D**

CHAPTER 2: THE SECOND

"It's a good thing you've got me, though." Vegeta said smugly.

"Hold on, I said abruptly, sitting up and looking Vegeta straight in the face.

Vegeta looked back, toying with the Dragon Ball in his hand. "Hn?" he grunted.

"Who said anything about you coming along with me to find the Dragon Balls?" I asked.

"I did."

"I work-"

"Yes, yes, you work alone, you've told me only about a thousand times."

"Exactly! I don't want you!"

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. "Where's the next Dragon Ball?" he asked, pulling a strand of grass out of the ground and twirling it, avoiding my gaze.

I shrugged. "If you killed those guys back there, we have no way of questioning them to find the next ball."

"Well, you see, I have the radar you need to find them." Vegeta replied nonchalantly, still spinning the grass.

"What?"

The grass strand dropped. "You see, you may not _want_ me, when in reality, I have what you need to move forward, so you _need_ me."

No reply. I felt defeated.

"I have a little device here that picks up the unique energy signals that the Dragon Balls give off." Vegeta went on, reaching into one of his many pockets and pulling out a metal circular type mechanism about the size of my hand. He pressed the button on the top and the screen lit up, the device began to beep. **(AN~ Because screw canon. :P)**

Holding out the radar to me, he pointed to the red arrow in the middle of the screen. "That's us." he explained. "And those glowing orange circles are the Dragon Balls. The one right on top of the arrow is the one we have."

He looked up at me, smirking when he saw my expression. "Pretty handy, isn't it?" he asked, waving it in my face.

"Very." I replied coldly, grabbing another device out of my pocket. It was a little rectangular thing, about the size of a cellphone, but with two buttons on it, a green one and a red one. I pressed the green one, then put it away.

"What's that?" asked Vegeta, reaching for the pocket that held the device.

I swatted his hand away. "My friend Bulma drove me here in her helicopter. She gave me that to let her know to come and pick me up. The green button means I'm safe, and I'm ready to go, with the Dragon Ball. The red one means I'm hurt and/or in danger and I need help.

Vegeta tipped his head to the side, as if thinking about something.

"Bulma's a scientist, and a mechanical genius." I explained. "Her father runs Capsule Corporation, you must know that company, it's huge!"

"Yeah, yeah. I've heard of it. How come she didn't give you a capsule so you can get _yourself_ out of here, Mr. I Work Alone?"

"She doesn't trust me with any of her precious capsules, doesn't want to make one for me. I guess it makes her feel important when she helps me out. Besides, it's not like she's helping me in the action."

Vegeta snickered. "Well, you're quite the hypocrite."

I guess my words did sound pretty hypocritical, but I didn't know how to get around the statement, so I kept silent.

We waited in silence for Bulma to arrive for about five more minutes. When the wind started to blow and dirt kicked up around us, I stood up.

A yellow helicopter landed in front of us, the black and white Capsule Corp logo gave away who was inside.

Bulma got out of the helicopter, waving to me. I waved back.

"You got the Dragon Ball?" she asked, glancing at Vegeta. She raised an eyebrow.

Fishing in my pockets and retrieving the orange ball, I threw it to her. "Yeah. We almost got killed too, because _someone_ had to blow the place up." I directed my gaze at Vegeta, who bit his lip, obviously trying not to laugh.

"Speaking of "us", who is this handsome devil you picked up?" Bulma asked, looking Vegeta up and down.

I rolled my eyes. "Handsome my ass. Devil, however, is an accurate description." I remarked. "This is-"

"Prince Vegeta." he cut me off. "Pleasure to meet you." He reached for Bulma's hand and kissed it, like a "real gentleman".

Bulma giggled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Prince? I thought princes were supposed to be all prim and proper."

Vegeta waved a hand. "Bullshit. All stereotypes. This prince is 0% prim and proper and about 100% pure badass, no artificial flavouring, if you know what I mean." Bulma cracked another smile. Before I could barf, I shoved Vegeta out of the way. "Huffy, are we?" Vegeta asked, rubbing his arm where I had shoved him in mock offence.

"Listen. You," I looked at Vegeta. "No flirting with Bulma. I am going to rob you of the radar and leave you here. And you," I turned to Bulma. "I need to talk to you."

"Talk."

"Vegeta here found me wandering the building, and managed to trick me into his trap, which was grabbing me from behind and showing off his many knives. We figured out that we were both on the same side, though we still have a few... _trust issues_. We found their hideout, Vegeta decided to show off by prancing in there and taking the Dragon Ball, completely foiling the one trap those idiots had set up, then we got caught and Vegeta set the place on fire."

Bulma thought for a moment. "So we have no one to get information from?"

"At least not in the building. They're all burnt to a crisp."

"So basically we've got nothing."

"Not quite," Vegeta spoke up, rummaging in his jacket pockets. When he found there was nothing in there, he checked his pants pockets. Yet again, there was nothing there. Frowning, he opened his jacket, like he had just remembered there was pockets inside. He sighed and pulled out the radar.

"What's that?" asked Bulma, tipping her head to the side. "And how is that of any help to us?"

"This," I started, motioning to the radar. "This is exactly the reason we need Vegeta. It's-"

For the second time, Vegeta cut me off short. "A radar that can track the Dragon Balls using their unique energy signals. We basically have a moving map right here, we can track movement, we can see how many Dragon Balls are in one place, and we can even disguise it as a clock if our enemies get a hold of it."

"Wow," Bulma breathed, shocked. "That's ingenious. It just what we need! Son-kun, you take good care of Vegeta. He's good."

I blushed. That sounded pretty suggestive to me. Vegeta snickered.

"Yes, I just said that Mr. Antisocial." Bulma continued.

"Be quiet." I muttered.

Vegeta and Bulma just laughed. This was the exact reason I worked alone.

"So where's the next Dragon Ball?" I asked, wanting to change the subject.

"That's the problem." said Vegeta, scratching the back of his head. "The radar doesn't have a map of the continents, it's just a grid. But I'd say..." He clicked the button on the radar. "If we travel north and someone watches the radar, we'll find the closest Dragon Ball just fine."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's get out of here!" I said, starting towards the helicopter.

"Hold on." Bulma said, sniffing the air around me and Vegeta. "You two are covered in ashes and look like shit. You don't want to smell like smoke when you're trying to be quiet and secretive. How about we stop at Capsule Corp and get you two cleaned up?"

"Sounds good to me," Vegeta replied, shrugging. "Son?"

"Sure," I grumbled. Another setback. Great.

"Son? What's that, some nickname?" asked Bulma.

"It's his name." Vegeta said matter of factly.

"He's teasing me because Son comes before Goku. He refuses to call me by my "last name"." I explained. **(AN~ It was a good excuse for Vegeta not to say Goku. :P)**

"I see." Bulma nodded. "Alright, let's go. Son-kun, Vegeta, into the helicopter."

**Wow, I think I did pretty good for one chapter. I just love writing Vegeta's dialogue. It makes me feel just as badass as him. :D See ya later!**


	3. The Third

**For those of you also reading 439 Mountain Region, I TOLD YOU THIS CHAPTER WOULD BE UP IN A COUPLE OF HOURS! 4 hours to be exact, but who cares, this is the longest chapter yet. I really like how this one came out, it happened just like I imagined it in my head. I'm taking it slow with this story, no jumping around like I did with Suddenly Saiyan, no sirree! :D**

**And DBZ... *sigh* :( still not mine. Tragic. D:**

CHAPTER 3: THE THIRD

The ride to Capsule Corp. was only supposed to take about 25 minutes, given the speed Bulma's machinery could fly at. To me, it felt like 25 hours. Vegeta kept on trying to start conversations with me, to which I would respond to with one of these three.

1. Answering with just one word

2. A simple grunt to acknowledge he had spoken

3. Ignoring him completely

Vegeta seemed pretty fed up after about ten minutes, and his attempts at catching my friendship became feebler and less thought out after that point. By the time we had only a couple of minutes left until we arrived, Vegeta was just sitting on his knees, staring out the window with his chin in his hands. Every now and then he'd let out a long, over dramatized sigh, trying to make me feel guilty. Needless to say, it wasn't working. It was just childish.

Once he caught me looking at him, and he stuck his bottom lip out in a pout and again tried to make me feel like I was a bad person for ignoring him. I couldn't wait to get off that helicopter.

"Who calls the shower first?" asked Bulma as we landed in front of the dome-shaped building she called home.

"Me!" I yelled before Vegeta had the chance to look up.

Vegeta slammed his hand on the seat, groaning. I smirked at him victoriously. I could steal his trademark for this occasion, couldn't I?

When we walked inside, Bulma lead us into her living room, pointing at a small coffee table. "Put your weapons and gear on this table until we're ready to leave. We can take care of polishing knives and rebooting device systems later."

"Just how long do expect us to be here?" asked Vegeta, tipping his head to the side. "We don't have _that_ much time."

Bulma merely waved a hand. "Only a day or two at the most. I understand the situation."

I dropped my supply jacket on the table, taking the Dragon Ball out of the pocket while the jacket came off. I hid the sphere behind my back. If we were going to stay here overnight, who knows what would happen to this? Vegeta might be a liar and just wants the Dragon Ball. I was planning on hiding it on my way to the bathroom.

Vegeta took off his gloves, which I noticed had small flip knives at the writs, for an easy kill. As much as I envied his weaponry, I willed myself not to ask to borrow some of it. He pulled a couple of smoke bombs out of his boots and slung his knife strap over his head and placed it on the table, careful not to scratch the wood. I noticed he had a full belt loaded with a couple of guns and ammo. The belt came off as well.

I knew Vegeta probably had many more weapons to show off, so I snuck out of the room and down the hallway to the bathroom. Passing an open door, I abruptly stopped. I backed up, recognizing the room as the infirmary. I opened the door all the way as quietly as I could, and toyed with the Dragon Ball, looking for an ideal place to hide my prize.

My eyes shifted to the back corner of the room. There was a drawer full of hospital gowns and other clothing. I knew most people would look in the places they'd expect the things to be hidden. I crossed the infirmary and opened the door, pulling out a plain white hospital gown. I folded the Dragon Ball into the gown and found a closet full of supplies. Opening the closet, I placed the gown on the top shelf of the closet, behind a basket of bandages.

I thought it was pretty thoroughly hidden, and I was happy with my work. Letting out the breath I had just realized I had held in, I exited the infirmary and shut the door to the exact position it had been when I had found the room.

Relaxing, I took a nice, long, hot shower, happy I had gotten to go first. Vegeta probably wouldn't have any hot water at this point. I smirked to myself, closing my eyes. Suddenly, I heard the door open. I thought I had locked that door!

"What the hell?" I yelled. "Ever heard of privacy?" From the snicker I heard regarding my comment, I figured the intruder was Vegeta. "If you came here to see me naked... I ain't coming out _anytime soon_, buddy."

"Don't jump to conclusions Son." Vegeta replied through another snicker. "You were taking a long time, Bulma thought you drowned."

"So she sent _you_ to check on me?"

"Yep."

"I'll be out in a minute." I answered. I didn't hear him leave. "Get the fuck out!" I yelled.

Vegeta snickered one last time, making a snide remark as he left. "You sure are a feisty one..."

When I finally got out of the shower, I realized I didn't have any clean clothes. Bulma had always saved a room for me when I went out on missions like these, so I went to my room to get some clothes. Satisfied with my jeans and t-shirt, I went back to the living room to tell Vegeta it was his turn.

I found him lounging on the large couch, feet up on the table our supplies were on. "Yo, Veg-head, it's your turn."

Vegeta's gaze snapped to me. "Veg-head? The hell is that supposed to be?"

I shrugged. "Your nickname. Anyways, shower's open, and I hope you like cold showers."

"What- why?"

"You'll see... So where's Bulma?" I asked, changing the subject.

Vegeta shrugged. "I dunno. I think she went to her lab to analyze my radar." He got up and pushed past me to the hallway, purposefully knocking into my shoulder.

After about five minutes and no sign of Bulma, I got curious and got up to go search for Bulma. As I was passing the bathroom, I heard Vegeta mumbling to himself. He had forgotten to shut the door.

"Dammit..." he said to himself.

I couldn't help but respond to him. "What's wrong?"

"You fucking stalker." he said jokingly. "I just realized we never told Bulma to wash our other clothes!"

"I was just on my way to find her. I can tell her."

"Good, but what the hell do I wear?"

I thought about that. "You can wear my clothes. I have a room of my own just down the hall. From here, it's the third door on the left."

Silence. "Won't your clothes be a little big?"

I cracked a smile, trying not to sound amused. "Oh don't worry, you'll only have to wear them until your clothes are out of the wash."

"Fair enough."

I left Vegeta to finish his shower, and descended into the basement to Bulma's lab. I knocked on the open door, hearing her footsteps inside the lab.

Bulma looked up at my knock, then gestured me inside. "I was just writing some notes about this device." she said, holding up the radar.

I smiled. "I'm not here to question you. Vegeta told me to tell you that you should probably wash our old clothes. I'm having him wear some of my clothes until his clothes get back."

Bulma nodded. "I can get on that." she handed me the radar, putting her papers down on her desk. I followed her out of the lab and she shut the door.

I found myself lounging on the couch watching TV. I heard someone enter the room. It was Vegeta. I couldn't help but belt out a small amount of laughter at how funny he looked in a pair of my old jeans; a pair that had gotten too small for me last summer.

"What?" Vegeta asked, like he had no idea what I was laughing at.

"So how are those clothes fitting you?" I asked sarcastically.

"Just fine, why do you ask?" Vegeta replied, sticking his tongue out at me.

"Oh I don't know, maybe because there's about an inch of denim trailing behind you."

"I never noticed that." Silence. Vegeta spoke again. "Why is it so hard for you to talk to me?"

This was about the helicopter, wasn't it? "What do you mean?" I decided to play dumb.

"You just kind of seem like you're not that friendly. You obviously don't want to be friends, even though we're both on the same side here. I just don't understand you."

I sighed. "Listen, there's a reason why I keep on telling you I work alone. I am NOT, I repeat, NOT, a very good social person. I don't make friends easily, and I just... have a hard time working with others. I kind of have trust issues too. I don't fully trust anyone. Not even Bulma. I guess I just don't think we'll ever see each other again after this whole Dragon Ball fiasco is done with, so... why waste time getting to know someone you don't even need?"

Vegeta bit the inside of his cheek. He looked hurt. Then, his eyes narrowed. "_You_ listen here, "Son-kun". You'd better get pretty damn used to me being around, because I'm not going anywhere. You need to grow some balls and come out of your comfort zone. Learn some fucking social skills. I am giving you a chance. Take it. On the other hand, you may think I'm a pretty good guy, but deep down, this prince has one hell of a dirty side. You definitely do not want to make me angry."

I raised an eyebrow, only a little fazed by his words. "Is that a threat?" I asked.

"How would you know?" Vegeta snarled, turning away from me. "You haven't gotten to know me yet."

()o()o()o()o()o()

The next morning, Bulma was all set with our clothes and we were ready to go. While Vegeta was getting dressed, I ran out of the room we were sharing and snuck to the infirmary to get the Dragon Ball, claiming I had to use the bathroom. When I came back, Vegeta was just leaving to the living room to get his gear.

As we suited up, Vegeta suddenly stopped when he reached his knife strap. Counting the knives, he paused, then let the knives clatter back on the table. I heard him mutter something I couldn't hear, then he slammed his fist on the table.

"What's wrong?" I asked, adjusting my jacket.

"What's wrong?" he mimicked. "My fucking lucky knife, that's what's wrong! Where the hell is it?"

"I didn't touch it." I said, telling the truth. Bulma piped up as well.

"Neither did I. I only washed your clothes."

"I can't do this without my lucky knife! I never can!"

"Calm down, Veg-head, you'll find it." I cut in, handing him his knife strap.

"Where is it?" he asked me again. "I know you took it!"

"I just told you, I didn't touch any of your stuff!"

"Empty your pockets. Now."

"I don't have your stupid knife!"

Vegeta grabbed me by the shoulders, running me right into the wall. We were nose to nose, Vegeta's death glare sucking the snide remarks right out of me.

"Where is my knife?" Vegeta asked slowly, calmly.

"I already told you. I don't have it."

"Like hell you don't." he replied, switching his grips on my shoulders to my wrists. He held both wrists above me with one hand, using the other to probe my pockets. I was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable when he opened my jacket and thoroughly searched my torso.

When he was finally finished with his search, and I was sure my face was red as a tomato, he let go of me. His lip curled.

"I've got my eye on you, _Son_."

I didn't like the way he said my name. It made me feel like he had suddenly lost all interest in trying to break through to me. For some reason, that fact made my stomach flop, like I really had taken his knife and wouldn't give it back.

"_Learn some fucking social skills. I am giving you a chance. Take it." _he had said.

Had said. Had.

**OOOH! Drama drama! I feel like the roles of Goku and Vegeta are sorta switched. You know, with Vegeta trying to be Goku's friend instead of it being the other way around... meh, who cares. See you in the next chappy my adorable chihuahua/Pikachu mutants! :D (Don't ask me how that works...)**


End file.
